


things i have loved, i'm allowed to keep

by itsactuallycorrine



Series: the stars came falling on our heads [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Minor Character Death, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-07 23:15:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3186893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsactuallycorrine/pseuds/itsactuallycorrine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After five long years, Bellamy comes home</p>
            </blockquote>





	things i have loved, i'm allowed to keep

**Author's Note:**

> Like the other 2 works in this series, the title comes from a Regina Spektor song - this one, "The Flowers".
> 
> I did try to incorporate some of the more recent development in canon, which oddly enough worked in my favor when it comes to this series. (And I have a lot of feelings about Octavia's feelings, so... lots of O in this one. No, _really_.)
> 
> Thanks again for all the support for this series! I hope this ending satisfies.

It happens in a flash: one moment he's walking alongside Lexa, enjoying the last of the autumn warmth as they return from a meeting with another clan, laughing at something one of the guards had said; the next, they're under siege by a hailstorm of arrows. 

He turns just in time to see one burrow its way deeply into his wife's back, see her drop to her knees on the forest floor. "Lexa!" he calls, dodging what he can, cursing when an arrowhead tears into the fleshy part of his upper arm. He makes it to her side as their attackers close in, the fighting moving into hand-to-hand. "Lexa, hang on. We'll get you to Nyko. You'll be okay."

She stares, sightless, at him for a long beat and her face melts into such a look of adoration, it makes his breath catch. He's never seen her look so peaceful, so... happy, in nearly five years of marriage. She smiles gently and says a word that means nothing to him, " _Costia_ ," and then she's gone.

It's the last thing he remembers before blinding pain erupts at the back of his skull.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Clarke and Octavia have just sat down for their morning meeting when they hear loud voices at the gate. 

Clarke can't make out the words, but Octavia rises to her feet in one swift movement, nearly unseating the toddler cuddling in her lap. "Trigedasleng," she murmurs, then more hoarsely, "Bellamy." And she's gone, hoisting her daughter onto her hip and nearly running for the gate.

Although she wants to do the same, Clarke takes a minute to send someone to fetch Lincoln, before she follows Octavia. If something has happened - she swallows hard over the lump in her throat - Octavia and Rory will need him.

She walks up just in time to hear Octavia ordering the young Wood Clan messenger, "You'll take me to him," and releases a relieved breath. If Octavia is determined and demanding and not flying apart at the seams, Bellamy is at most just hurt. Octavia tells the boy, "Give a minute," and turns to meet Clarke a few steps away, mouth pressed in a thin line.

"What's happened?" Clark asks, keeping her voice placid to conceal the unease she feels.

"Not here," is her only answer and Clarke continues to follow her second until they are safely behind the walls of Clarke's cabin.

Once they're safely hidden from view of the camp, Octavia says without preamble, "Lexa's dead."

Clarke carefully lowers herself onto a rough-hewn chair and struggles for a minute, finally managing a strangled, "How?"

"The messenger didn't know all the details." Octavia sets Rory down on the floor, the little girl automatically losing interest in the adults and scooting herself over to the toys Clarke keeps for her. "He didn't know if the attackers were affiliated with a clan outside the Alliance or if they were just a rogue pack of nomads looking for a fight. They sent him out immediately to get word to us. Clarke, with Lexa gone..." She trails off but gives Clarke a significant look.

"We don't know if _our_ alliance will hold." Clarke nods grimly, then looks back at Octavia. "Bellamy?"

Octavia glances at her daughter and then sits beside Clarke, lowering her voice. "He's alive, but hurt. He was unconscious when they sent word to me, had been for a few hours. He sustained a head injury; Nyko wasn't with them so no one was sure of the severity. As soon as Lincoln meets me here, we're setting off with the messenger back to their village."

A sense of purpose surges through Clarke and she rises quickly, heading for the bedroom. "Let me grab my bag and I'll-"

"Clarke," Octavia bites out, sighing when Clarke turns to her, "you need to stay here."

Clarke frowns. "Bellamy's  _hurt_. I'm not going to sit here idle, while he needs me."

A dark cloud passes briefly over Octavia's face as she too stands, although her voice isn't unkind. "Bellamy hasn't needed you in a long time. Lexa's death is going to leave everything unsettled and if things don't go well for us... we'll need you  _here_ , in command."

Guilt curdles in Clarke's stomach and she nods helplessly. "You're right," she admits quietly, then looks up at her friend to plead, "Bring him home, O. For all of us."

She doesn't give Octavia time to respond, just turns and walks out, but she hears the unspoken words anyway.

_This isn't Bellamy's home anymore; you made sure of that._

 

 

 

 

 

 

He wakes to find a toddler with big blue eyes staring at him over the edge of his mattress and it makes him smile a bit, even as shards of light dig into his brain like needles. "Hey, little Ro," he says, voice raspy from disuse, and he wonders how long he's been asleep.

Rory looks at him with her father's solemn face and says severely, "Shhhhh, Bell hurt," and he laughs, which in turn makes him groan.

There's a commotion in the doorway and Rory backs away just as Octavia walks in, chiding, "Aurora Abigail, you better not-" only for her to stop short as she sees Bellamy watching her. Her mouth falls open and he can see the way her chin trembles the slightest bit, even from across the room, until she forms her expression into a shaky smirk. "Well, well, look who finally decided to stop being lazy."

He gives her a dry look, not even attempting an eyeroll given the pain in his head. "How long have I been out?" he asks instead.

She moves to sit on the side of the bed and carefully helps him take a few sips of water. "A few days. You gave Nyko a real scare, big brother. Although I'm not sure what he was more worried about: you dying or what Clarke and I would do to him if you did." Bellamy can't keep his eyes from sweeping around the room at that. "She's not here," she answers the unasked question, setting the cup down and taking his hand in both of hers, nervously licking her lips. "Bellamy..."

Bellamy tries not to wince as he carefully turns back to his sister, risking a raised brow when she still hesitates.

"What do you remember before your injury?" she finally asks, and he frowns a bit, before it all comes back to him.

"Lexa," he says dully, closing his eyes. "She's gone, isn't she?"

She confirms it with a whispered, "I'm so sorry, Bell."

He squeezes her hand tightly as the grief balls up in his throat. "We weren't..." he begins in a strained voice, coughing once to dislodge the lump. "Both of us, we always knew where we stood - it wasn't some great love story - but she was good to me. She was a good wife and a good leader. A good friend." He blinks his eyes open and meets his sister's gaze. "Did they find out what happened, who was behind it?"

She nods. "It was a group of cast-outs from the River Clan. They were trying to frame their former leader and provoke a retaliation. They've been dealt with."

"That wasn't their right!" he grates in outrage, struggling to sit, making Octavia push him back down. He's even more frustrated at how easily she overpowers him and settles back onto the bed with a growl. "She was my wife, so it was  _my_ right to deal with her killers."

"I know, I know. But there wasn't anything I could do! I'm still an outsider here; I'm lucky they even let Lincoln come in with me."

He presses his free hand against his eyes for a long moment, pushing back the angry grief, then drops his arm and turns back to Octavia. "How long are they letting you stay?"

She shrugs helplessly. "No one really said, but my guess? As soon as they know you're okay, they'll want us gone."

"That sounds about right," he agrees sardonically. For all that the Wood Clan was willing to go into battle alongside the Sky People, tensions still existed and the two groups tried to limit contact to only what was necessary.  Bellamy sighs and looks over at his niece, who is quietly keeping herself amused with one of her dolls. "I'm surprised you brought Ro."

"We weren't sure exactly what had happened," she says. "We didn't know if Lexa's death was political or just an accident and I didn't want to leave Rory behind in case..."

"In case someone considered the alliance at an end and attacked," he finishes for her with a grimace. "I don't think you'll be in danger, but make sure Miller keeps the guard sharp just in case." When he looks back at her, she's wearing an exasperated smile. "What?"

"Believe it or not, Bell, we're not completely useless without you." She shakes her head at him, but the smile doesn't fall. "I guess you can take the boy out of the Sky People, but you can't take the Sky People out of the boy," she jokes. 

He smirks back at her, then realizes, "That's why Clarke didn't come." Things between the two of them had been friendlier over the last two years - although anything would have been an improvement over the complete lack of contact in the years directly following his marriage. Bellamy frequently visited his family - both blood and chosen - at their camp and no longer made up excuses to be absent when she came to his village. Though they were never left alone together, they had slowly begun repairing the trust she had abused and ultimately broken.

O nods, pulling him back to the present. "She wanted to," she says, somewhat reluctantly. Bellamy is not unaware of Octavia's feelings about the entire situation - hell, the reason she became Clarke's second was because Octavia had staged a coup months after he left and it had nearly succeeded. "She told me to bring you home," Octavia continues in a hushed tone.

He stares at her, torn. On one hand, Clarke calling him back to her is all he's wanted for years. On the other... "My wife just died," he says, a little too harshly if O's flinch is any indication. "I - I can't go back."

He thinks about the days spent at Clarke's side, the nights that he pined away silently for her. He knows, intellectually, that it wouldn't be the same, that Clarke has given every indication that if he ever came back, he could have it all - the life he'd craved and dreamt about right up until the moment that she'd traded him away without regard for his own feelings. It could be his, but...

"Not yet. Not  _never._  Just," he hesitates, looks away, "not yet."

 

 

 

 

 

 

Octavia and her family arrive back at camp a week after Clarke receives the message that Bellamy is awake and relatively fine.

Standing at the gate with them, she doesn't realize that she's pinned all her hopes on Bellamy returning with Octavia until he's not there. Rory is hanging from her like a monkey and telling her all about her exciting stay with her uncle and Clarke can only manage a feeble smile as her heart cracks in two.

Clarke sends a questioning look Octavia's way, but she's already turned away, heading towards her home arm in arm with her husband. Supporting Rory's weight, Clarke follows, making all the appropriate noises, understanding one word in ten as the young girl babbles at her. "It sounds like you had a very busy time," she says when Rory takes a break to catch her breath. 

Rory sighs dramatically. "So tired," she confesses, resting her dark head in the crook of Clarke's neck in a way that never fails to melt her heart. 

They've caught up with Octavia and Lincoln and the latter looks between the two women and then reaches for his daughter. "Papa's tired, too. Let's have a nap, baby."

Clarke walks out, letting them get the little girl settled, but lingers. She shouldn't - she has other, more productive things she could be doing - but she needs to know.

When she hears the door close behind her, she doesn't give Octavia a chance to speak. "He's not coming, is he?"

Octavia hesitates so long that Clarke finally looks at her. "He just lost his wife, Clarke. His Clan lost its commander," Octavia explains quietly, blue eyes wide and earnest. "He wasn't just Lexa's consort; he was a part of that community and became one of them. He's grieving and he's with the people he needs right now."

"And then he'll come?" she presses and Octavia snorts.

"Do you even hear yourself? Do you even understand how selfish you're being?"

Clarke rocks back on her heels. "What the hell does that mean?"

Octavia shakes her head sharply and paces a few steps away, only to turn back and walk right into Clarke's personal space, voice low and seething. "I have watched you jerk my brother around enough - ever since when? our first unity day on Earth? - making all the calls, stringing him along, letting him support you, protect you. And then, when it got to be too much, you used his love for you against him and sent him away."

"I was in a bad place then, after... and, well, I've regretted it ever since. You know that, O. You know what it's been like for me." 

"But do _you_ ," Octavia stresses the word, "know what it's been like for  _him_? What he went through as an outsider among those people? And one who usurped a position of some significance? How he was reduced to a punchline the first few years, seen as a warrior's plaything? How he had to prove himself? How he earned their respect? Do you even care about any of this? Or do you just care that for once, you don't have the leverage to force him to your will?"

And Clarke wants to be angry, she wants to be self-righteous, she wants to pretend that she isn't this - this  _monster_ who would be so careless about someone, especially someone as important to her as Bellamy. But she can't. She can't lie to herself any longer. "You're right," she says quietly, shaken and feeling as though she's been methodically beaten over her entire body. She sinks down to the ground, back against the wall, staring at her palms. It feels like a long ago day when she desperately tried to clean her hands of the blood she'd shed, but now - like then - there's no amount of scrubbing that will take away the guilt.

Octavia deflates at Clarke's ready agreement and sits down beside her. "You sure know how to take the air out of someone's sails," she quips, taking one of Clarke's hands in her own. "We've been through a lot, you and me, but I feel like this is the first time the air is clean between us." Clarke stays silent and Octavia turns to look at her, resting her head against the wall. "I didn't say all of that to hurt you. It's just... it's  _Bell_ , you know?"

"Your brother, your responsibility," Clarke paraphrases with a ghost of a smile, then sighs. "I know, Octavia. I needed to hear it. For everything I've been through down here, I guess there's still some of that entitled princess that hasn't been knocked out of me. Just because my feelings changed, because I'm ready, doesn't mean he is. He was there for me in my time to grieve; I owe him his." She squeezes Octavia's hand. "You'll check up on him, though, right? Make sure he's taking care of himself? Let him know that we're here when he's ready?"

"Whether he likes it or not," Octavia says with a grin.

"Good, that's good." Clarke closes her eyes, leans her head back. "It's scary, having all of this hope bubbling up. One wrong move might make it burst and it'll be lost forever." 

"Mmm, the best things usually are scary." Octavia's voice is rich with wisdom and happiness and Clarke can hear her contented smile. "But even when they're hard, they're worth it. It just takes courage, honesty, hard work, persistence. Patience," she finishes pointedly, bumping Clarke's shoulder with her own.

Clarke hums. "I'm going to need a lot of it."

Octavia laughs. "That was always a given with my brother."

 

 

 

 

 

 

After six weeks, he still doesn't return.

Clarke sends a message with Octavia to arrange a visit with him; she even offers to meet him at a neutral location.

He declines.

 _Patience_ , she reminds herself.

 

 

 

 

 

Octavia barges into his home uninvited and Bellamy wishes he could say it was a surprise, but he had stopped being surprised by his sister long ago. Although he didn't _know_ she was coming, he could have predicted it: in the six months since Lexa's death, Octavia had initially visited at least once every three or four weeks. Within the last month, though, they've increased to weekly occurrences.

So no, he's not surprised when she shows up barely five days since he saw her last.

He  _is_ surprised, though, when the first thing out of her mouth is a stern, "Stop being an ass."

Bellamy drops the shirt he'd been folding and turns to lean back against the bed, crossing his arms with a smirk. "You'll have to be more specific. I'm sure you'll be shocked to find out how often someone accuses me of such a thing."

Her lips twitch, but she mirrors his stance, crossing her own arms and leaning forward aggressively. "If you're not going to come back to the Sky camp, just say so. I'm a big girl, Bell. I can handle it. But I can't handle this waiting game you've got going on." She drops her arms with a huff and begins to pace around his bedroom, so Bellamy shrugs and turns back to the stack of clothing on the bed that he's transferring to his bag.

"I mean," his sister continues, "it's one thing if you're just apprehensive about coming back - and what that means - but I don't think that's it. If you're worried that there's not a place for you, I mean, I think the only thing stopping Miller from bodily hauling you back is Monty's cool head. He's more than ready to abdicate control. And if it's me you're worried about, I'm... well, this would be a really good time for you to come back so I could step down, too. And we just really - wait." She stops and stares at him, finally realizing what's going on. "Are you packing?! Please tell me you're packing!"

He raises a brow at her. "No, I just really like storing my clothes in duffel bags," he answers sarcastically. "Of course I'm packing, O." He places the last item in his bag and zips it closed, turning to her. "But now I'm wondering what's made you all gung-ho about this when I know you've been preaching at Clarke about patience. What changed?"

She grows cagey immediately, glancing away from him, then back with a forced smirk. "What makes you think something's changed?"

Deflection not denial, he notes, and narrows his eyes at her. "Is there some new threat? Or something in the group?" A horrible thought crosses his mind and he looks away, rubbing his neck anxiously. "With, uh, with Clarke?"

Octavia groans at him. "I swear on everything I hold holy, you two deserve each other. I don't even know what you're imagining, but the answer is no. Nothing has changed with Clarke, other than her looking a little more like a whipped puppy every time I return without you."

Bellamy hates that the idea hurts him, considering all he's been through for her - because of her - but he's honest enough to admit that it does and it probably always will. "Well, something's obviously different," he says, ignoring his sister's exasperation, turning a sharpened gaze back on her. If it wasn't something changed within the camp or with Clarke, then... "You're pregnant again."

Her mouth drops open, all but confirming it, and Bellamy grins at her. 

"How did you- I haven't- Lincoln and I haven't told  _anybody_ yet, not even Clarke." She shakes her head in amazement. "It's still pretty early, but yeah. We estimated that Rory will have a new brother or sister in early winter." 

"That's great, O," Bellamy says, voice thick with emotion as he carefully wraps her in a hug. Dropping a kiss to the side of her head, he sighs in happiness. "And I'll get to be there for all of it this time."

"Good," she answers, her own voice muddled by tears, "because someone will have to teach Rory how to be a great older sibling, and you're the expert."

He lets her sniffle against him for a few more minutes - may even get in a few of his own - before he pulls back a little. "I can't believe you came all the way here in your condition without Lincoln. We'll stay here for the night so you can rest, and then set out tomorrow at an easy pace. You can take the bed. Do you need anything?"

She rolls her eyes and gives his shoulder a shove. "There's the overprotective big brother I tolerate. Bell, I've already been through this once; I don't need you going all nursemaid on me. Unless," she says with a wag of her eyebrows, "you're getting in some practice for the future."

It still takes him aback - his sister hinting at him having a future with Clarke - when he's spent so many years listening to her renounce any such idea. He clears his throat and shrugs jerkily, turning away to lift the bag of clothes off the bed. "If that's in the cards at all, it's still a long ways away, O. Clarke and I - we've got a lot to work out before we can even consider something approaching romance."

"Bellamy," Octavia murmurs in concern, walking up behind him to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "you do still love her, don't you?"

He turns, trying on a smirk that feels more like a grimace. "Sometimes it feels more like I love the idea of her, who she was before - before the massacre, before Mount Weather." He shakes his head at his own wistfulness. "So much has happened to each of us, separately, that we're not even the same people anymore. How could I still love her when I barely know her? But then I see her again, talk to her, and it all comes falling into place and I know, I'll never stop."

"Then fight," Octavia says so fiercely that Bellamy wants to grin. "If that's one thing Lincoln has taught me, it's that love is a constant fight: fighting your circumstances, your environment, outside pressures, and, yeah, sometimes even each other. But you have to grab onto it and defend it with everything you have." She smiles up at him. "You should be pretty good at that part. If you want that future, fight for it."

Dropping an arm around her shoulders, Bellamy squeezes her to his side and makes noises of agreement before leading her into the rough kitchen area. 

What he doesn't say is how he wishes it was only external factors he had to worry about fighting.

Instead it is his own doubts and fears.

Clarke had burned him so badly before and that was a wound that had yet to heal completely.

And now he was walking back into the fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Octavia has only been gone two days when there's a shout at the gate. Clarke looks over idly on her way to talk to Miller, not expecting to see Octavia returning so quickly.

And she's definitely not expecting little Rory to call out, "Bell!" in her ringing voice or the furor that breaks over the camp after that. 

She freezes in place, watching in numb detachment as member after member of their camp greets Bellamy - Miller with a shoulder-slapping hug, Jasper and Monty with a tight, clinging one, Lincoln with a firm handshake, Raven with a punch to the arm.

It feels like minutes but also hours that she stands there, until he looks up from one of the younger boys and locks eyes with her.

She inhales deeply, finally feeling as though she can breathe again, and begins to walk his way. 

The crowd surrounding him quickly dissipates as everyone returns to their tasks, excitement still buzzing, so it's just the two of them by the time she's approached.

She wants to draw him into a hug, but waits a beat too long and he shuffles in place and doesn't appear to know what to do with his hands.

They stare at each other awkwardly, until the sound of someone splitting lumber cracks through the air.

Clarke takes another half-step forward and hesitantly touches his arm. "Welcome home," she says quietly, the words not quite as warm as she'd hoped. "I was so sorry to hear about Lexa."

Bellamy nods his thanks and glances away briefly. "I'm assuming you have room for me here. It seems like there are a good 20 more people since the last time I visited."

"Of course, we always have room." She leads him through the heart of camp. "We always get more defectors from the Ark after every winter. Luckily, we got a new barracks put up before they showed up this year, so we have some empty beds. Maybe we can see about getting your your own house soon."

"The barracks is fine. Beats a tent made out of a parachute, doesn't it?" He grins at her and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed.

The long hall-like barracks is abandoned when they walk in, empty bunks lining each side. Bellamy stops in front of a mattress that is stripped bare and throws his bag on top.

Clarke clears her throat and shifts away slightly. "I'll make sure to get you some furs, a pillow, whatever we can spare. Make yourself at home." 

"Clarke, wait," he says, grabbing her arm as she turns. "Sit with me a minute. Unless you have something pressing...?"

She shakes her head. "Nothing Octavia and Miller can't figure out." She lowers herself carefully to the edge of the bed beside him, then huffs out a breath in annoyance. "Why is this so strange?!"

He smirks a little at that and tilts his head. "It feels like there are all of these expectations now, like so much is resting on whatever happens next." 

"Yes! Exactly." She nods. "Like everyone is counting on things just going back to how they were. Maybe especially us," she says quietly.

Bellamy has no compunction about addressing that. "But it's not," he stresses firmly. "And I don't want it to. So let's just... play it by ear, day by day. Is that okay with you?"

Clarke rests her hand on his forearm, waiting until he meets her gaze before saying, "Bellamy, as long as you're here, I'm okay with following your lead." He grins at her. "What?!"

"When have you ever followed my lead, princess?" he asks, but fondly, and chuckles when she grumbles at him. 

"I'm turning over a new leaf." She sniffs at him imperiously. "It's called 'personal growth'."

His grin turns soft and he takes her hand and intertwines their fingers. "I can't wait to-" he begins, but they're interrupted when a younger girl walks in through the doorway, shouting that Clarke is needed. Bellamy shrugs as she gives him an apologetic look. "Duty calls. I'm lucky we had this long."

Clarke stands and moves to leave, then turns back. "Before I go..." He nods in encouragement when she pauses and she can feel her face heat with a blush. "It's just... Can I have a hug?"

Bellamy seems surprised, but rises to his feet as well and wraps his arms around her.

Clarke exhales shakily, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. "I do love you, Bell," she whispers against his skin. "And I'm so sorry that it's taken me that long to say that."

His arms tighten around her infinitesimally before he runs a hand up and down her back. "Clarke," he chokes out, then blows out a breath and shakes his head. "Day by day."

She cards her fingers through his hair and sighs quietly. "Whenever you're ready."

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come talk to me on [tumblr](http://itsactuallycorrine.tumblr.com)


End file.
